St. Teresa of Avila, the First Female Doctor of the Church, and Her Medicinal Gifts for Our Soul

October 15 is the memorial feast of St. Teresa of Avila (who is known as Santa Teresa de Jesus in Spain) , a 16^th century Spanish saint. She is one of the 16^th century Spanish Catholic mystics, often compared to her contemporaries, such as St. Ignatius of Loyola and St. John of the Cross.

St. Teresa of Avila was proclaimed as the first female doctor of the Church by Bl. Pope Paul VI in 1970 for her excellent works on prayers to enrich the spirituality and the theology of the Church. What is important to note is that Teresa’s prayer cannot be reduced to mere academic armchair theology, though it can be studies rigorously through the academic disciplines of theology, as well as psychology and philosophy. No matter which academic approach we take to examine Teresa’s exemplary prayer and her spirituality, it must be a psychospiritually transcendent journey, which leads us into the unshakable intimacy with Christ.

We can learn Teresa’s spiritual life and spiritual growth into the ultimate intimacy with Christ through her writings, La Vida (her autobiography), Camino de Perfection (Way of Pefection), and El Castillo Interior (The Interior Castle).  As St. Ignatius of Loyola wrote Exercitia Spiritualia (Ejercicios Espirituales or Spiritual Exercises) for his fellow Jesuits, based on his own spiritual growth, St. Teresa of Avila  wrote Camino de Perfection, based upon her spiritual growth, for the Carmelite sisters. Both of these spiritual writings are important to understand how St. Teresa of Avila and St. Ignatius of Loyola tried to bring a fresh life into the Church during the time of the Protestant Reformation. In this regard, it makes an interesting theological comparison to study these against writings of Martin Luther and John Calvin.

Certainly, there was no straight and flat path to spiritual perfection, as Teresa’s writings remind. Her path of spiritual perfection (camino de la perfection spiritual), indeed, goes through many obstacles and long distance of the spiritual desert for an extended period of what St. John of the Cross calls La Noche Oscura del Alma (The Dark Night of the Soul). In this regard, Teresa’s spiritual path of perfection is like that of St. Ignatius of Loyola, as both of these Spanish mystic saints found themselves in deeper conversion which brought much more closer to Christ during their extended periods of physical, emotional, and spiritual sufferings.

When she was young, she contracted malaria, which brought her high fever, and plunged into coma for a few days. Though she came out of it, she suffered from convulsion and paralysis of her legs as sequelae of malaria and poor medical treatment. It was during that time of intense suffering that Teresa met wounded Christ in her prayers and experienced a conversion on an unfathomably deeper and intimate level. Upon this experience, Teresa was miraculously recovered from convulsion and paralysis. This deeper spiritual and mystic experience of conversion of St. Teresa of Avila is comparable to a similar experience of St. Ignatius of Loyola in Manresa.

Because Teresa’s theology of prayer is rooted in her own experience of suffering, it is empirical. It also gives a great clinical wisdom for discerning healing amidst of suffering that may drive us into despair.

According to St. Teresa of Avila, it is about giving up our ego’s control and letting God work on us, to grow more intimate with Christ amidst our suffering. Healing is rather a secondary to this spiritual growth. This is why Teresa emphasizes that prayer is a constant dialogue with God in a way for us to gradually abandon our ego and let God work on us through the Holy Spirit, in Camino de Perfection. As a result of this, we can attain peace in Christ.

St. Teresa of Avila understands that it is not easy to overcome ego. This is why ‘camino de perfection” is rather an extended journey with gradual progression. It is like a marathon or a long voyage.  Just as there are mile markers to help runners know how far they have run and how many more to run to the finish line on the parathion course, she helps puts seven “stations” to cross the “finish line” on our “camino spiritual hacia la perfection” in El Castillo Interior. In this book, St. Teresa of Avila describes seven mansions, which guide us step-by-step closer to and into Christ – for us to cross the “finish line” of our “spiritual marathon” for perfection. As many marathon runners experience and overcome series of physical and mental pains throughout the course, we, too, experience and overcome various forms of sufferings – physical, mental, and spiritual.

As the first female doctor of the Church, St. Teresa of Avila has “prescribed” and “dispensed” excellent medicinal gifts to us so that we, too, may grow into sainthood, which is spiritual perfection. It is the path into the fullness of the mystery of the risen Christ.  We shall complete this “spiritual marathon” before parousia.

St. Ignatius of Loyola – A Saint of Gutso, Who Asks, Seeks, and Knocks, as Taught by Jesus

“And I tell you, ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened,” (Luke 11: 9-10) said Jesus, as he was teaching the disciples about prayer. This was a part of the Gospel reading on this past Sunday – the 17^th Sunday of Ordinary Time Year C.  

Of course, these words of Jesus should not be taken out of the context. Otherwise, such an interpretation may lead to a naïve, rather narcissistic interpretation: All we have to do is to ask what we want to God in our prayer – and we should get it.  Such is an interpretation and attitude typical to immature faith of a lukewarm soul.  And, those who are familiar with the Divine Mercy message of Jesus to St. Faustina Kowalska sure remember these words of Jesus:

Today bring to Me souls who have become lukewarm, and immerse them in the abyss of My mercy. These souls wound My Heart most painfully. My soul suffered the most dreadful loathing in the Garden of Olives because of lukewarm souls. They were the reason I cried out: "Father, take this cup away from Me, if it be Your will." For them, the last hope of salvation is to flee to My mercy.”(Diary, 1228).  

Such a lukewarm soul, which hurts Jesus, produces only a narcissistic interpretation of Jesus’ teaching. Because it is not what Jesus intended in his teaching, it really disappoints him. 

If your faith is mature enough, then, you understand that the above words of Jesus in Luke 11:9-10 are not to say that we can get what want just because we pray for. In fact, you understand that these words of Jesus on prayer – asking, seeking, and knocking are to illustrate importance of persistence in our prayers. It means that we must appreciate and interpret these words of Jesus in Luke 11:9-10 to stir up our endurance to live a life of faith so that not only our prayer but also our work for Christ in our life may be persistent. This means spiritual resilience and spiritual gutso. 

With mature faith, which makes our ora et labora persistent, we can appreciate this prayer of anonymous Confederate soldier:

I asked God for strength that I might achieve.
I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey.

I asked for health that I might do greater things.
I was given infirmity that I might do better things.

I asked for riches that I might be happy.
I was given poverty that I might be wise.

I asked for power that I might have the praise of men.
I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God.

I asked for all things that I might enjoy life.
I was given life that I might enjoy all things.

I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am, among all men, most richly blessed.

As a matter of fact, the above prayer echoes this prayer of Swami Vivekanda, a Hindu monk and a disciple of Hindu saint, Ramakrishna Paramahamsa.

When I asked God for strength
He gave me difficult situation to face.

When I asked God for Brain & Brawn
He gave me puzzle in life to solve.

When I asked God for Happiness
He showed me some unhappy people.

When I asked God for Wealth
He showed me how to work hard.

When I asked God for Favors
He showed me opportunities to work hard.

When I asked God for Peace
He showed me how to help others.

God gave me nothing I wanted
He gave me everything I needed.

Though we may project what we want to God in our prayer, we understand and accept the fact that our prayers are answered according to what God knows of our needs. But, if our faith were not mature but rather lukewarm, then, we would become angry at God – if we did not receive exactly what we asked.   

We shall note that Jesus did not say that we will receive what we asked for. He simply said that we will receive. It means that every prayer we make is never be left unanswered. However, immature faith of the lukewarm soul, of the narcissistic mind, mistakenly interprets this as receiving what we asked for and answered as we want.  

In thinking of who can be a really good example to show us what it means to pray with persistence, as meant by Jesus in his teaching in the Gospel reading for the 17^th Sunday, Luke 11:1-13, I cannot help but think of St. Ignatius of Loyola, whose feast was this Tuesday, July 31, our of many great Saints.

Why Ignatius? 

Because St. Ignatius of Loyola not only exemplified his spiritual gutso to keep his persistent prayers and work in spite of numerous setbacks – but, as Jesuit psychoanalyst, Fr. William Meissner puts it, he successfully sublimated his narcissism – transformed his fat ego for his self-glorification to his zeal for greater glory of God.  In psychoanalysis, sublimation of pathological desires into a meaningful desire is a sign of maturity. As a pastoral psychologist, I can certainly apply this principle of psychoanalysis in understanding the maturity of faith, as well as psychological maturity. 

As a young man, St. Ignatius live a life quite unimaginable to become a Saint, as he put his hands on quite as many sinful things as he could afford, as during his youth and young adulthood. In a way, this kind of “scenic” early life of Ignatius bear the early lives of St. Augustine of Hippo and St. Francis of Assisi. None of these great Saints were not “nice young men” to begin with. 

According to Fr. Meissner’s “posthumous psychoanalytic autopsy” of St. Ignatius of Loyola, Ignatius sure exhibited attitudes and behaviors typical with significant narcissistic disposition. He craved for self-glorifying attention. It was what motivated him to be a great heroic soldier of Spain. 

Along with his narcissism, Ignatius was a man of gutso – in a physical and emotional sense. His physical and psychological stamina was just astounding. It meets the standards of the honor code of Japanese Samurai, called Bushido, as Ignatius’ gutso made his loyalty to the lord of Spain he served as a soldier second to none. This was exhibited during the Battle of Pamplona in 1521 (not to be confused with the Battle of Pamplona, involved with Napoleon, in 1813), against France. 

Though there was a mood to just surrender to France among the Spanish soldiers, Ignatius refused to give into such a mood and continued to fight for Spain. But, it was when a French canon ball hit his leg and wounded Ignatius near-fatally, Ignatius’ courageous heroic soldier’s spirit kept Spain stand against France. The French was impressed by Ignatius’ fighting spirit – though Spain was defeated in this battle. 

As a Japanese Catholic, whose grandfather was a Japanese Imperial Army soldier during World War II, with samurai ancestry, this military heroism of Ignatius – and most importantly, how his military heroism was transformed into as his spiritual gutso as a “samurai for Christ” into St. Ignatius of Loyola, hits home to me.   

The way Ignatius fought fearlessly for Spain, not letting unfavorable odds stop him, echoes the way the Japanese soldiers fought in all wars that Japan has fought. Of course, this is not to glorify Japan’s past militarism but to appreciate the uncompromising spirit of loyalty to the duty, as such a spirit is what it takes to be a faithful follower of Christ. I elaborated on this in my June 25, 2013, blog on Luke 9:18-24 (Gospel reading for the 12^th Sunday) , with focus on vv. 23-24 in light of the teaching of Bushido (the way of samurai) from the Book of Hagakure. The way Ignatius conducted himself certainly meets the high honor standard of the samurai – and most importantly, what Jesus demands on us to be his follower, as said in Luke 9:23-24. 

Though Ignatius’ life was spared, the canon ball wound also meant the beginning of the dying process of his narcissistic ego. In teaching on a life of St. Ignatius of Loyola, this is where I emphasize. Because of this near-fatal canon ball wound, he met Christ during his long boring recovery process. It was when Ignatius began to realize these words of St. Augustine of Hippo - Deus est intimior intimo meo (God is intimately closer to me than I am to myself), which Pope Francis quoted in his homily to celebrate the feast Mass for St. Ignatius of Loyola. 

As his desires for earthly glorious status as a heroic military officer, women, and other set of material prestige began to give its way to his desire to be a servant for greater glory of God (ad majorem Dei gloriam), Ignatius put himself a quite challenging journey in search for deeper meaning of life, steeped in service for his new lord, the Lord Jesus Christ. For this, he exchanged his military uniform and sword for beggar’s rag, stripping himself to be a penniless wondering beggar, as he began his long difficult yet deeply transforming journey. 

Of course, Ignatius did not ask for a hard life. He asked for an opportunity of ad majorem Dei gloriam in his prayer upon gradually realizing Deus est intimior intimo meo.  Nevertheless, his prayer was answered in a way to take him a long hard path to receive what he asked for and what he sought in his prayer. On this journey, Ignatius encountered many closed doors, which could tempt him to give up on his journey. 

It was the Ignatius long long difficult “exodus”, perhaps invoking the Exodus of the Jews from Egypt. As many Jews were mired with temptation to give up that extremely long challenging journey to the Promised Land, they drifted to sinful acts, such as idolatry and dropped out of the journey. Even those who barely hanging on to the journey, they complained of hunger and thirst. That is when God provided the grumbling Jews with manna (Exodus 16:1-36 & Numbers 11:1-9). 

During his “exodus” from a narcissistic life to a humble servant life for the Lord Jesus Christ, I wonder what Ignatius asked God in his prayer. I suppose he was asking for something to sustain his journey. Perhaps Ignatius asked God his daily bread, as taught by Jesus. 

In the 17^th Sunday’s Gospel reading (Luke 11:1-13), Jesus taught, “When you pray, say: Father, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread and forgive us our sins for we ourselves forgive everyone in debt to us, and do not subject us to the final test”(Luke 11:2-4). 

Now compare this instruction of Jesus on prayer to St. Ignatius’ prayer of suscipe, found in his Spiritual Exercises 234:

'Receive, O Lord, all my liberty. Take my memory, my understanding, and my entire will. Whatsoever I have or hold, You have given me; I give it all back to You and surrender it wholly to be governed by your will. Give me only your love and your grace, and I am rich enough and ask for nothing more.'

Ignatius was asking God for what he really needed – God’s grace to sustain his long challenging journey, fighting all sorts of setbacks. Grace, Ignatius asked to suffice his sustenance of the journey, is the daily bread that Jesus has taught us to pray for. 

Note that we do not ask a lot. We do not bargain with God in asking. It is not that we ask God out of our selfish desire. That’s what persons of immature faith and lukewarm soul would do, naively thinking to get it, just because they pray for.  

It is, indeed, a request out of our humility – simply asking for what we need to sustain our journey of searching and seeking, knocking all doors standing in the way, for a day.  We do not ask for sustenance for a week but just one day, trusting that God will provide another batch of daily bread next day – another dose of love and grace we need on the following day. Thus, the prayer that Jesus has taught, as echoed in St. Ignatius’ prayer of suscipe is about humility – not about ego. Again, appreciating this important principle and accepting this teaching as it is requires a certain level of maturity in faith. Certainly, it is not for a person with lukewarm soul, who needs to be showed by the Divine Mercy. 

Now, we also notice that Ignatius became a different man –though keeping the same gutso. This time, with humility, Ignatius was using his gutso to sustain his challenging journey and to serve his new lord, the Lord Jesus Christ, with the Bushido-like valor and loyalty. This is evidence of sublimation of his ego strength from narcissistic direction to God-centered direction.  For this, Ignatius must have had a similar transformation that St. Paul had, finding his new self in Christ upon dying with his old ego-driven self (i.e. Romans 6:5-14; Galatians 2:20; Colossians 3:2-7; Philippians 3:1-14). The words of Paul in Philippians 3:1-14, in particular, reflects Ignatius’ suscipe prayer as both Paul and Ignatius consider what ego and flesh desire are worthless rubbish. That is why Ignatius asked God to take away all of these because a loss of such earthly privileges also means profound gain in God’s love and grace. 

Now it is evident that both Ignatius and Paul share some similarity. Both of these great Saints are fighters – great samurai soldiers for the Lord Jesus Christ with athletic gutso. The way Ignatius endured his difficult journey of transformation, sublimation of his ego, conversion really not only somewhat resembles the way Paul was converted but also embodies these words of Paul:

“..let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.”  ( Hebrews 12:1)

“I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith". (1 Timothy 4:7)

Ignatius certainly has his share in reflecting these inspiring words of Paul, given not only how he has endured and persisted himself throughout difficult journey despite many blows against him but also how he has built the order of the Jesuits on a global scale simply out of 3 men – St. Ignatius of Loyola, St. Francis Xavier, and Bl. Peter Faber – “the three musketeers” of the Jesuits, in 1540.

Speaking of Bl. Peter Faber, who was Ignatius’ college buddy, along with Francis Xavier, at the University of Paris, today, August 2, is the day of memorial for him. Peter Faber was the first to be ordained as a priest among the three and served as the celebrant of the ordination Mass for Ignatius, Francis Xavier and other men who joined in the Ignatius’ group. 

See, how the Jesus’ teaching on prayer in the 17^th Sunday Gospel reading is better understood through the life of St. Ignatius of Loyola. 

What we ask in our persistent prayer is our daily bread, which can be understood as love and grace of God to sustain our journey for a day, in the Ignatian spirituality (suscipe). 

It is indeed persistence, as shown by the persistent widow in Luke 18:1-8 and by the Canaanite woman in Matthew 15:21-18, as well as Hanna in 1 Samuel 1:1-11, that we exercise when we pray – so that we can overcome any discouragement – so that we will never give up on our prayer. To teach this, Jesus told a story about a man, who asked for three loaves of bread for his unexpected friends (Luke 11:5-8).  

In order for us not to give up on our searching and seeking, we need a fuel – and it is the daily bread that Jesus has taught to pray for. This is what we ask out of our humility – as exemplified in St. Ignatius’ suscipe prayer (Spiritual Exercises #234). 

We must understand that what we receive is not what our ego asks but what God sees our need. Our mature faith enables us to ask only what we need – because such faith helps our heart’s desire coincide with God’s desire for us. Attaining this spiritual maturity is what the spirituality of St. Ignatius of Loyola focuses on – especially his Spiritual Exercises. 

In order for us to pray truly in light of the way Jesus has taught, it is certainly helpful to explore and apply the Ignatian spirituality – not only in our prayers but ora et labora (prayer and work).

Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam!